


When Moony Was Right

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Complete AU, F/M, Hermione is from Marauder era, Mutual Pining, Patronus fluff, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 09:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A non-Voldy AU in which Hermione is the same year as the Marauder’s, because I wanted to write her with Remus without messing with time travel. Because this is for fun and as a thank you.Seventh year.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin
Comments: 36
Kudos: 169





	When Moony Was Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pronunciation_Hermy_One](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pronunciation_Hermy_One/gifts).

> For Pronunciation_Hermy_One. Because you were so kind to binge read through my first Remione and leave me such a thoughtful comment. Thank you, ma’am!! I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> This is unalpha’d and unbeta’d and... there we go. All errors are mine. 
> 
> And I own no part of the Harry Potter franchise.

* * *

“_ Mate’s sad. _” 

“She’s not mate, Moony.” 

“_ She is. Has been always _.” 

“You cannot be on about this still!” 

A bark. A barring of sharp teeth. And a low, warning growl—all so pronounced Remus nearly lost his balance on his broom. “_ She’s mate. Scented ages ago. _”

Remus groaned, his face falling in his hands, even as his legs tightened to compensate and keep him from plummeting to the grassy lawn below. “Fifth year was not ‘ages ago’ whatever you may think.” A dull ache thrummed in his temples and he drifted his hands up to attempt at a massage. “I don’t care how many moons ago it was. I don’t care how much you protest—it can’t happen.” 

“_ She cares for us. Has since before. First friend on first day. _” 

At that Remus lifted his head, looking back down at the lone figure—the lone _ witch _—sitting in the Quidditch stands with riotous curls catching in the wind. 

Hermione Granger had been the first person he’d met on the platform at King’s Cross, and while they’d had a pleasant enough first interaction—all right, so he’d thought she’d smelled of tea, oranges, and _ books _—her parents had come up to point out other girls that appeared to be their age, and encouraged Hermione into that direction. She’d cast a glance back to him over her shoulder, giving him a smile he swore to this day that seemed almost apologetic, and a small wave. 

They’d sat in different carriages, James, Sirius, and Peter all in his... 

And that had been that.

He’d held his breath as the hat sorted him, nearly _ asking _ to be placed in Ravenclaw with the frizzy-haired witch, but to Gryffindor he’d been sent. 

Which he’d never complained about. Moony certainly never had. Sirius was the one who gave his wolf an actual _ name,_ and Moony had declared Padfoot his favourite pack-member for life because of it. 

And somehow, Hermione had always managed to be in and out of his daily life: same extracurricular classes when third year rolled around. Same preferred study spot in the library. Same preferred time of day to take walks out by the lake… Same aversion to potions and preference to Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Both prefects for their houses, fifth, sixth, and now seventh year… 

He’d even been so lucky as to be assigned to patrol with her several occasions starting their fifth year patrols—which was how Moony had convinced Remus Hermione hadn’t always _scented_ _so perfectly… _That it hadn’t been a trick of the wind and his mind that fatal first morning of September their fifth year when greeting each other on the platform of King’s Cross Station.

“It’s just a crush,” he groused to himself, looking on as Hermione aimed her wand out for several beats, only to drop her arm, shaking her head. 

Teeth snapped and Moony hissed, _ “It’s not. She’s mate.” _

“Fine!” Remus growled, lifting his gaze up to the empty sky, realising how very foolish he would look to anyone watching. “You win and it’s more. And say that she is—it doesn’t matter. We’ve never given her the option for more, and, frankly, I care too much for her safety to attempt at more.” 

“_ Pack.” _

“You can’t keep using that against me.” Remus began to gnaw on the inside of his lip, slowly descending towards the stands as Hermione kept stretching and pointing her wand at… well, Remus wasn’t sure _ what _… But he was helpless to the pull to find out…

Because Moony was right—Remus had tried to keep his friends at arm’s length and out of harm’s way. They’d chosen _ him _ instead. Chosen to be a family, a pack… Maybe it was time Hermione knew enough to make that choice too… 

She was closer now, hair still lifting and floating about her shoulders and face, flooding the air with her glorious scent. The closer she became, the more he picked on everything _ Hermione: _ oranges, tea (Earl Grey, no sugar, no milk), parchment, and specialty ink (the exact same smell as what he’d bought her for Christmas this past year, he noted, giving Moony reason to purr). And she was near enough for him to catch her giving out barely audible, “ _ Expecto Patronum” _ before lowering her wand again. 

“_ Mate needs help. _” 

“Stand down, boy!” Remus snapped silently. It wouldn’t do at all to be all primal, flashy, and know-it-all with the darling of Ravenclaw. “No need to jump ahead of ourselves…” 

But that was the last logical thought in his mind for the next foreseeable future, because suddenly she was _ there _. She was right there in front of him, at eye level; her wide doe-eyes resting on him…

Just before they narrowed and she jerked away. 

“If you’ve come to gloat about class today, I really don’t want to talk about it.” Her tone was clipped, uncharacteristically so, and it stung. Moony’s ears fell, and he started pacing, wondering what it was he’d done…

“When have I ever gloated?” he asked, hopeful the honest masked any hurt in his voice… 

She gave a heavy sigh as he floated nearer; just an arm’s length away now… “Never,” she admitted, looking back to him, gripping her wand tightly in her lap. “Sorry, Remus. I’m… I’m not necessarily… That is to say…” She trailed off, giving a useless shrug, shoving a mass of curls behind her ear. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say at the moment.” 

He bobbed his head in agreement, because that made sense. He didn’t know what Hermione was trying to say either. He’d caught her practicing the motion and verbiage of the Patronus charm before. She was the brightest of their class, and he’d known, he’d just _ known _, that if anyone could have produced a fully corporeal patronus in Defense Against the Dark Arts today, it would have been Hermione Granger… 

“I didn’t come to say anything, I reckon,” he finally supplied, deciding some measure of honesty was called for in the moment. “But I won’t trouble you if you’re wanting the private space to practice…” 

Moony loosed a low whimper as Remus dropped his gaze to the glossy green pitch below, forcing himself to sink lower—

“WAIT!” 

His heart leapt in his throat and Moony barked loudly. Hermione was up, standing, giving him a look he’d never be able to discern in a dozen lifetimes, gaze all ablaze though…

“Remus, I…” 

Something in her voice. There was just something there that gave him reason to pause. Reason to linger… Reason to hope for… _ something… _

Her face was broken, everything falling into pieces of sorrow and resignation as she floated her wand arm out, aiming just to the right of where he hovered. “It’s not that I _can’t_...” she started, voice cracked and almost watery. “ _ Expecto Patronum.” _

And there it was. 

A burst of silver and white. Taking form and shape… Knitting together into a… 

“Hermione?!?!” He croaked. Like a toad. Bloody nearly falling off his broom in the process, but, _ Merlin _… 

A wolf. 

A _ wolf _. 

Petite and female, tail swishing gracefully as she bounded to him, bouncing over him once then whirling around and around, until she appeared to be perched just over him, sniffing his hair…

Before the disappeared. 

And the witch that cast her stood amidst the empty bleachers, stricken, tears striping down her cheeks—Circe, he needed to be closer to her! 

“I don’t…” He attempted to swallow, but that was like trying to swallow a desert, so he settled for urging his broom forward, until he was right there. In front of her, Leaning and so close he could wind her fluttering curls around his fingers if she’d let him… “I don’t understand.” 

“Of course you don’t.” Her laugh was bitter as she swiped at her cheeks. “You’re the kindest, most thoughtful, and thickest of anyone, and I’m such a fool, Remus. Which means I always thought we’d make a nicely matched set, you know? Because you’d be the idiot who thinks I haven’t known your secret since second year, but then I’d get to be _your_ idiot who thought of you as _my_ very own idiot for six years now, and I was crushed when Mum and Dad all but pulled me from you to get me to meet some girls that very first day. And then I kept getting more and more crushed when I thought I was giving you sign after sign that I was interested in you all this time, but you never let on anything, so I just assumed you weren’t interested, and so I—”

Remus cut her off. With his lips. He ceased the movement of _ her _ lips with _ his. _

And it wasn’t sparks or fireworks or the sultry dance of passion that Sirius liked to boast of…

It was actually a bit clumsy and awkward; there was a surprised gasp from Hermione for an endless moment before something warm and soft began to cradle his face… 

And fingers slid into his hair. 

Hermione as touching him, and instead of pushing him away, she was trying to bring him closer. Sighing and humming and urging him as near as possible while he was still mounted on his broom in midair… 

A puzzle—that’s what it was. Two pieces sliding into place that he’d never even entertained the thought of putting together. 

Shite. 

Moony would be an unbearable twat from here on out… Being right and all that...

But Hermione’s tongue was now tracing the seam of his mouth, and Remus couldn’t very well bring himself to be bothered with much more beyond that. 

His mate was letting him kiss her—no, was turning this into a full blown snog, and everything else would sort itself out in due course. 

Somehow both Remus and Moony were confident of and in full agreement with that. 


End file.
